


You Never Learn

by icelos



Category: Winner (Band), iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 07:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icelos/pseuds/icelos
Summary: "Most clients probably won't like it. You know how they like to have something to pull on."





	You Never Learn

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also crossposted on AFF. This fic was written to scratch an 'itch' That I Must Scratch.

“You’re late.”

The skin on Hanbin’s chest and left ribs tingles as he closes the door, unhurried in taking off his shoes and socks before quietly moving towards where the voice came from. He curls his toes against the cool marble flooring, staring impassively at the figure sprawled on the large couch.

Minho lays his phone face down on his chest, clicks his tongue as he returns Hanbin’s stare. “Come here, Hanbin-ah.”

Hanbin takes measured steps towards the couch.

“Stop.”

Hanbin stops. He can feel Minho’s heavy gaze on him as he keeps his own lowered, and tries to breathe in deep without making it seem like he’s taking a deep breath at all. There’s a sound of clothes rustling and the cushioned bouncing of the phone on the couch as it falls from its perch. Hanbin holds his breath.

“Turn slowly.”

Hanbin turns slowly to his left, swallowing when he turns his back to Minho and steadying his breathing when he comes to stop. He lets a tiny exhale out at the soft sigh Minho gives from where he’s sitting up on the couch. 

“Come closer.”

Closing the remaining distance, Hanbin ends up standing between space of Minho’s spread legs.

“Well? Aren’t you going to greet your seonsaeng-nim?”

Lifting his gaze from the floor to see the entertained look Minho was wearing, Hanbin’s gives a tiny smile, the stiffness from his shoulders falling away.

“You’ve gotten better at doing commands,” Minho praises, “now, kneel.”

Once Hanbin settles on his knees, Minho draws his face closer by the chin, inspecting as he turns it from side to side before letting out a surprised, “Hmn.”

He swipes a thumb on Hanbin’s lower lip, and it comes away slightly smudged pink, a smirk stretches his lips when checks.

 “You’re learning well.” He murmurs before kissing Hanbin.

When Minho pulls away, he runs a hand through Hanbin’s cropped hair, almost hypnotically thumbing the undercut sides.

“You cut your hair?”

Hanbin hesitantly nods, standing up when Minho leads him by the wrist to walk. Hanbin knows where they are going, he’s purpose here is always scheduled.

Minho inspects his hold on Hanbin’s wrist as he pushes him down to sit by the foot of the bed, “You’ve finally put some weight on, that’s good.”

“I am eating.” Hanbin sounds meeker than he would like and Minho laughs at his expression.

“As you should,” Minho says, experimentally tugs on the tuft of strands on top of Hanbin’s head, fingers barely even able to grasp anything and ends up with his nails scratching his scalp lightly.

Hanbin has scrunched his eyes close, biting at his lower lip to restrain a sound when Minho tugs again. Then there’s weight settling on his lap and without opening his eyes he kisses back, opening them only after the lips are gone and he feels himself landing on his back.

“You should probably grow out your hair again.” He blinks back at Minho, as the other moves down the bed, nudging his legs apart before settling between them.

Minho drags him closer, gripping the back his knees tight before he shifts his attention to stomach skin showing when Hanbin’s tee shirt rode up.

“Most clients probably won’t like it,” he smooths a hand upward underneath the tee shirt, eyes never leaving Hanbin’s, “you know how they like to have something to pull on.”

Hanbin takes in a shuddering breath, nods absently at Minho’s words, “Yes, hyung.”

Hanbin closes his eyes when Minho clicks his tongue, he allows himself to shiver at the approval evident in Minho’s voice.   

“Good boy.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively, you can find me here: thepseudologoi.tumblr.com


End file.
